


My old writings

by Gratrunka_OrA_TearJerker



Category: Original Work
Genre: I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Bad At Summaries, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:43:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gratrunka_OrA_TearJerker/pseuds/Gratrunka_OrA_TearJerker
Summary: So I wrote these in fifth grade and now they're just...Anywho, rate 10-year-old me's writing skills!





	My old writings

The floorboards let out the tiniest of creaks as I approached the door. If I were worrying about my health I would’ve never even left my bed, but I was instead worrying about getting out. I wanted to get out of this wretched household and take mother with me. Maybe if I were to go outside for once in my short twelve year old life, I could finally find a place where there weren’t monsters.   
Regardless of what I was thinking or feeling, I was sneaking towards the door. And regardless of what I really wanted, I was turning the doorknob; even if it were painful with how slowly I was going. But, however much I could’ve, I couldn’t bring myself to pull the door knob towards me.   
What I began to do, instead of turning the silver door knob, I noticed, I was locking it. I was then suddenly attacked with the urge to sleep, maybe because I hadn’t gotten any the whole of the night. The sun was just barely brightening the mudroom, and my mother certainly would’ve woken soon.   
I tip-toed through the kitchen and into the beige carpeted living room; where I promptly passed out. While unconscious, I dreamed of teddy bears and buttons. 

-L zloo vhh brx vrrq-

Mother came into the living room and woke me up from my deep sleep- Had I been sleeping? Regardless, she looked worried when she woke me from my dreams, as I was not supposed to be out so early. The room was brightly lit and she was in her penguin pajamas, looking worried.   
If she had spoken, I did not notice or remember any of the conversation. What I do remember is that she made me a cup of tea and hugged me really hard. I can’t remember if I felt any relieved from the guiltiness of seeing mother get worried over me. 

-Gr qrw wub wr ohdyh ph-

I don’t know when or how I did it, but one day I made it out of my house. I didn’t see mother again as I ran deep into the woods. I ran over branches and leaves, forgetting every single one of them, and remembering every monster.  
Sometimes I would stop, but not often, or the little black spiders and shadowy monsters would get me. I remember the sun falling and rising for what seemed like mere seconds, over and over again. I remember stopping and seeing mother…  
Poor, poor mother. Her hair was in a mess and her cheeks were slick with tears. It wasn’t the worst of it, because the spiders had gotten to her. Little black spiders that ate her as I watched. I couldn’t stand it, so I ran faster and didn’t stop until I wanted to cut off my legs.  
I let out big, ugly sobs that echoed.

-L dp wkh rqob rqh zkr fdq surwhfw brx-  
Soon the forest melted into plains, and soon I could not stand to be awake. I couldn’t sleep in the slightest, because I could hear a beast breathing behind me. I ran with my eyes closed.  
When I opened my eyes again, I was close to a little red house.

-L kdyh ehhq zdlwlqj iru brx, pb fklog-

I stumbled closer to the little red house, and I noticed a dog. The dog was laying on the ground, lifeless. Maggots were worming and writhing in its eyes and mouth. I nearly vomited.   
Nevertheless, I went into the house. The floor was slathered in dust, but I knew it was meant to be a hardwood floor. Boxes were scattered around the living room, along with a limp hanging teddy bear. The corners of the room had heaps of squirming ladybugs, which had sent shivers down my spine.  
I heard the drip drip of a faucet. I wondered if someone lived there.   
I was so tired, I needed to rest; and it was so warm in the house. I drifted into a dreamless sleep on the dusty hardwood floor.

-Hyhubwklqj zloo eh ehwwhu, L surplvh-

A person was holding me, and at the time I forgot about mother dying. The person had put me on a bed, one very stiff and uncomfortable. In the instant I remembered the entire thing.  
I curled in on myself and sobbed. I didn’t want to open my eyes, but I had to. I saw a worried woman.  
The woman was very unlike to mother, because she was false and cold. No matter the smile she put on her face, it never had warmth. She looked exactly like mother, except her eyes were glass marbles.

-L kdyh zhsw iru brx-

The woman, who called herself ‘Mother’, had locked me in a room. A cold, dark room with no windows. She had told me she would let me out when I called her by her name and stopped being delusional. I cried and wouldn’t eat the bread she gave me.  
I would’ve starved instead.

-L rqob zdqw zkdw lv ehvw iru brx-

By this point I couldn’t move. How long had I been in the room? Regardless of the time, I faded in and out of consciousness.  
Sometimes she would come in and feed me horrible tasting medicine and rotting bread. I couldn’t stop her.

-L grq'w olnh vhhlqj brx olnh wklv-

She brought me a doll. The doll was a bit smaller than me, and had a lovely red dress on. The doll’s hair was horrid, and it probably looked worse in a good lighting. It’s skin was pale and squishy, as if it were made to imitate human contact. I decided to name the doll Cecilia.  
The first few days I had cried into Cecilia’s shoulder. Even if it wasn’t real contact or friendship, it was a great substitute. After a quick (or maybe long?) nap I went to wake up Cecilia with a hug. I couldn’t stand the stench. I didn’t hug her again.

-L grq'w eodph brx iru euhdnlqj brxu wrb-

Mother let me out of the room, she was rather nice. I didn’t see why I didn’t trust her earlier. She gave me milk and chocolate chip cookies. I just stared at her, unblinking. She then gave me a set of identical dolls, boys this time. I didn’t bother to name them. She later took one of them away. I think Mother likes when I get hurt.

-Zloo brx gr vrphwklqj iru ph?-

One day she got really angry, and littered my arms with bruises. Another time she yelled at me, but she said sorry. It was okay for a while.  
She banged her head on the wall, over and over, she sounded like she was explaining something to someone. She came out and asked me if I’d do something for her with a very sad voice. I said yes.  
-...-

I struck over her head, over and over, hitting the spot where she banged her head on the wall. She was gurgling thank-you again and again. I don’t know when I stopped, but I did. I didn’t recognize the pile of brain and blood on the floor.  
I took the dolls mother collected, and dragged them with me. It was hard work, with them being so heavy, but I did it.  
I dragged them to the cold, dark room.

**Author's Note:**

> My teacher's comments:  
> "[ME], you are getting darker. I hope this is not how you really feel about life!"  
> ((Also I'm to lazy to decipher the codey bits- It's just a three letters forward cipher.))


End file.
